


Aunt Amy Falls in Love

by spikesgirl58



Series: The Adventures of Aunt Amy [5]
Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who says love is only for the young?  Written for Tamingthemuse - propmt 348 Papaya</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aunt Amy Falls in Love

Are you ever too old to fall in love?  I think so.  Or at least that’s what I thought until about a week ago.  Now I am beginning to think that I had a lot of things wrong.

It all started when I was attending a funeral.

                                                                                ****

“Is this seat taken?”

I was doing a bit of knitting and didn’t bother to look up from my work.  “No, please.”

“Thank you.”  There was a long pause.  “How well did you know Walter?”

This time I did stop.  The speaker was a good looking gentleman of age.  He was graying hair that was askew after being released from a well worn fedora.   He wore black rim glasses and had a bushy mustache that needed trimming.    He was wearing a brick red sweater with leather patches on the sleeves and his hushpuppies were scuffed.  Is that funny?   I couldn’t tell you what I was wearing but I remember every detail about him.    “Who’s Walter?”

“He’s the guy in the casket up front.”

“Oh, I didn’t.  I’m here with my friend, Mrs. Brumeyster.  She used to play canasta with him.”

“I see.  Earl Walker.”

“I’m sorry?”

He offered his hand.  “Earl Walker.  I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, Amy Solo.  Likewise, I’m sure.”  We shook hands, both being very gentle.  When you get older, you tend to favor your arthritis.  I don’t have a lot, but I’m still careful.  I was touched that he was likewise inclined.  I returned to my knitting.

“Third one this week,” Mr. Walker said.

“Third one, what?”

“Funeral.  I have a feeling if Old Man Hooker didn’t see me at least once a week, he’d send out a search party or starting measuring me for a coffin.

“It is a sad part of life, especially now.”  I sighed.  “My Albert would have been impressed.  He always said you could tell a good funeral home by the condition of their drapes.”

“Crushed velvet, somber, but sincere.  They took care of my Agnes. ” He looked around and nodded.  “They are good people.  Five years it’s been.  You?”

“Fifteen.”

“That’s a long time for an attractive woman to remain free.”

“I have done a bit of traveling and I’m busy with my nephew.  He has a very… complicated life and I help him out from time to time.”  I wasn’t about to tell this stranger about UNCLE.  No, Napoleon was quite firm about that.  Not even Mrs. Brumeyster knew about my nephew’s secret life.

“Ah, a family woman.  I like that.”  He made a little poking motion with his finger.

“No. no family.  Just my nephew, but he’s enough.”

“They are nearly finished.  Would you think it very forward of me to offer to buy you a drink?”

“I couldn’t.”  I felt my cheeks grow warmer.  A Solo blushing!  Who would believe it?   “My friend and I came together.”

“I understand.”  He patted my hand and slipped a card into it.  “That’s my number.  If you ever feel the need for someone to have coffee with, you just give me a call.”

He levered himself up with his cane and headed to the door as Mrs. Brumeyster made her way to me.  She stared after him and he hobbled up to the coffin, nodded and left.

“Amy, who was that?”

“No one, dear.”  I slipped his card into my clutch purse.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, please.”  She sneezed daintily into a lace handkerchief.  “Lilies always make me… _achoo!.”_ She dabbed her nose.  “Poor  Walter.  I don’t know who we are going to get to take his place.”

“I’m sure someone will come along.”

We left and I thought nothing more about it. 

                                                                                ****

We, Napoleon and I, were coming in from dinner when the phone rang.  Napoleon grinned and walked swiftly up to the jangling instrument. 

He cleared his throat and answered formally, “Solo residence.”  He listened for a moment and nodded.  “One moment, please.”  He put his hand over the receiver and winked at me.  “Why, Aunt Amy!  A gentleman caller?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Earl Walker.”

Again, I felt my cheeks grow warm at his smile.  “I’m allowed to have men friends.”

“Indeed you are, dear.”  He kissed my forehead and handed the phone to me.  He pantomimed that he’d call me later and was gone.

“Hello, this is Amy Solo.”

“I was afraid your butler wasn’t going to let you talk to me.”

I giggled.  “Not my butler, rather my over-protective nephew.”

“I wondered if you might have tomorrow afternoon free.  There is a new exhibit at MoMa and I would enjoy having the honor of your presence.”

“MoMA?”

“The Museum of Modern Art.”

“Oh, I heard about that exhibit.”  In fact, Napoleon and I had been discussing it at dinner.  Illya had dragged him to it and he regaled me with his fanciful interpretations of some of the art.  “I would like that very much.”

“I could pick you up or, if you prefer, I could meet you in the lobby of the museum.”

“I will meet you there.”  It was a snap decision on my part.  I didn’t like that he’d gotten my phone number.  I wasn’t about to tell him where I lived.  A girl, no matter her age, has to be careful.

                                                                                ****

The next afternoon was glorious, not too warm and not too cool.  I brought along a light sweater, just in case, as I knew how some museums loved to crank up the air conditioning.

Mr. Walker was sitting by a statue of something, although I would be hard pressed to tell you exactly what.  He was a forest green sweater and held the same scruffy fedora in his hands.  He looked anxious until he saw me and then his whole face lit up.  Mine did the same.

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late.  The taxi driver got confused.”  That was a lie, but a little white one.  I’d gotten cold feet at the last minute and nearly didn’t come.  Now that I was here, I was glad.

“Are you ready?”

“Let me get my ticket and I will be…”  I trailed off as he handed me a ticket.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’d be a rogue if I didn’t.”

We wandered through the new exhibit, a collection of Japanese woodblock prints.  They were lovely and some were very sad.  Others were very naughty.  I could feel Mr. Walker’s eyes upon me as I studied one of the prints.  I didn’t immediately realize what the couple was doing, but then.

“My word.”  I turned away.  “I’m not a prude, but really… that artist needs to study human anatomy a bit more.  No man is… like that.”

“It’s all in the interpretation.  Imagine how flattered the subject felt.”

“Imagine how objectified the woman felt,” I shot back, then realized what I’d said.  “I’m sorry.  I’m not used to keeping my opinions to myself.  Albert said it was what he likes the most about me.  He always knew where he stood.”

“Honesty is a great thing.  I wish I could have been more honest with Agnes.  She had a nervous disposition.  She thought I was a mild mannered bookkeeper for a small law firm.”

“Oh?”

“I worked in the stock market.  If she’d known, the stress would have been too much for her.”  He smiled at the memory.  “She liked the money and never asked me details.  She’d ask how my day was and I’d say fine and she was happy.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Perhaps, but it suited her, so I could live with it.”

I fanned myself as the room was very stuffy and crowded with people and suddenly found myself whisked off to a bench out of the line of foot traffic.   Even more overwhelming was the feeling of being watched.   “Thank you.”

“You looked a bit faint.”  Why, I’d never fainted in my life, but he was right.  I did feel a bit light-headed.  “If you like, perhaps we should adjourn to the café and take some refreshment.”

It was like that all day.  Earl was gallant and kind and very much the gentleman.  I never did shake the sense that someone was watching me.  I studied the crowd closely, but I never did spot anyone who looked even vaguely familiar.  Earl finally picked up on it.

“What’s wrong, Amy dear?”  He leaned in close as I studied an odd cubist painting of… something.  The label said it was a bird in spring but I saw neither the bird nor the spring…

I shook my head.  “I feel like someone is watching us.”

“I have the same sense.  Would you like to leave?”

“Yes, I think so.”

                                                                                ****

The next day, we attended a concert in Central Park.  It was Big Band music and it brought back wonderful memories.  We talked freely of our deceased spouses.

“Amy?”

“Yes?”  We were eating ice cream cones and trying to avoid the drips as we wandered through a rose garden.

“I have lumbago that flares up about twice a year.”

“I usually get my arthritis acting up when it rains.”

“I have a heart condition.”

“I have gout upon occasion.”  We paused and I studied him.  “We are old, Earl.  Is that the point you are making?”

“No, my point is that I don’t have a lot of time left.  How long do you think it will be before we make it to first base?”

I smiled, rather impishly I thought.  “I don’t know.  What’s your batting average?”

                                                                                ****

It took me a few minutes to realize the phone was ringing the next morning.  We had gone from the museum to Luchow’s for dinner.  There had been cocktails, wine with dinner, and after dinner drinks.  I felt very fuzzy as Earl escorted me to my elevator and kissed me goodnight.  I did still have the good sense to not invite him up for coffee.  Not yet.  First base was fine, but I wasn’t ready for second base

Somehow I managed to find the phone and cease its ringing by answering it. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Auntie.”

“Oh, Napoleon.  How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine.  How are you?”

There was an edge to his voice that made me frown.  “Napoleon, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You can try that with someone else, dear, but not me.  I changed your diapers, Napoleon, and taught you to whistle.  Try again.”

“How much do you know about Earl Walker?”

“Why?”

“He’s not who you think he is.”

I was fully awake now.  “Napoleon, what have you done?”

“Nothing yet.  I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I put a hand to my head and winced.  It had been a long time since I’d had quite as much to drink as last night.  “Better make it thirty… or possibly an hour.  I need to tidy up first.  Certainly you will permit a lady her toilet.”

“I will see you at noon.”  And he hung up, just like that.  I was flabbergasted and stared at the phone until it started to make an annoying beeping sound and a recorded voice told me to hang up and try my call again.

“Why, I never!” I sputtered.  The phone rang again and I was tempted to ignore it, but I couldn’t.  I snatched up the receiver and snapped, “What do you want?”

“I was merely checking to see if you had a restful night, Amy.  Perhaps I should call back later.”  Earl sounds so contrite than I wanted to cry.

“No, it’s not you, Earl.  I’m sorry.  Please excuse an old woman her temper.  I am not a morning person.” I smoothed my hair, as if he could see me.

“The opposite of me, then.  I get up at dawn.”

“On purpose?”  I laughed at his responding chuckle.  “Honestly, the only time I have ever been up at dawn is if I haven’t gone to bed the night before.”

“You didn’t sleep well?”

“I did, but I just had an uncomfortable exchange with my nephew.”

“Anything I can help with?”

I didn’t want to tell him he was the cause of it, so I made a comforting noise.  “It’s merely family, dear.   You know how they get.  However, he’s on his way over and I must get up.”

“I will call you later.”

“I’d like that.”  He made me feel all warm and glowy inside.

                                                                               

I’d gotten a shower and was working on a third cup of coffee when there came a sharp knock at my door.  It was Napoleon, I had no doubt.  I was ready for him.  I’d eaten some papaya, which I’m told has an enzyme that is good for curing hangovers, so I was feeling better.  Now we would discuss this as adults. I brushed the wrinkles out of my dress and went to answer it.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered a stranger on the other side of the door.

“Amy Solo?”  She didn’t look happy.

“Yes?”

“You gold diggers are all alike. Which one of your deceased husbands paid for this place?”  She was obviously not impressed with my humble abode.

“My dear young woman –“

“Leave him alone.”  The stranger’s eyes narrowed and I felt a little ball of fear grow in my stomach.  “Or I will make you wish you’d never set eyes on him.”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“I believe the lady asked you a question.” I nearly collapsed with relief as Napoleon appeared to the side of the stranger.  Dear Illya mirrored Napoleon on the woman’s other side. 

“No dice, UNCLE.” I started a bit at that.  It meant the young woman might be THRUSH.  I was doubly glad Napoleon and Illya were here.

“Oh, I think we can discuss this in a civilized manner.  What do you think, Illya?”

Illya moved slightly and suddenly the woman was on the floor in a heap.  “Or we cut to the chase.”  He knelt.  “No one threatens Aunt Amy.”

“What is going on here?”  I glanced anxiously left and right.  This isn’t exactly the sort of thing most people appreciated on their door steps and I could only guess at who was watching.  “Napoleon, all of you, come inside please.”

They half dragged the stranger to my couch while I followed.  On hindsight, I should probably have shut the door.

She struggled out of their grip and looked a little frightened.

“They won’t harm you, dear, but you need to explain your actions.  Would any of you like coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Illya said politely and gave the woman’s arm a shake.

“No… thank you,” she mumbled, wincing.

“Don’t hurt her, Illya.” I made the request gently, with a smile and he nodded, releasing her and moving back. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”  I looked from my nephew to his partner to the woman and then back to Napoleon.  “Please?”

It was as if I’d lifted the flood gates.  Words poured out of Napoleon’s and the woman’s mouths, their words jumbling together in a babble of nothing.

“Enough!”  I rapped my knuckles on the coffee table and the two broke off, startled and both staring at me.

“I’m afraid it’s all my fault, dear.”  Earl was standing in the doorway with a lovely bouquet of flowers.  I started to get up, but Illya was at the man’s side so fast, I swear he blurred when he moved. 

“I’ll take those and put them in water, shall I?”  Illya didn’t wait for an answer, but rather hustled the flowers out of the room.

“Will someone please, please, please tell me what is going on?” I wailed.  My head hurt, again.  My stomach was churning with undigested papaya and I just wanted to crawl back into bed.  The only one I really wanted to see at the moment was Mr. Sandman.  They all started to talk and I held up my hands.  “One at a time.  Napoleon, dear, why don’t you start?”

“This man works for THRUSH.” Napoleon stared at Earl, who frowned.

“I beg your pardon.”  Earl took a seat in an easy chair, but he looked very uneasy.  “I have never been employed by them.  My niece works for them.”

“Your sympathies lie with them.”

“Not always.”

Illya reappeared, carrying a tray with a coffee pot, cups, saucers, cream and sugar.  He was a good boy.  He set it down, glanced over at Napoleon and shook his head.  That seemed to make Napoleon more comfortable.

“Why are you dating my aunt?” Napoleon demanded.

“Napoleon Solo!” I snapped.  “That is no concern of yours!”

Earl looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time.  “Your nephew is Napoleon Solo?”  He looked at Illya.  “And you are the Russian?”

Illya nodded as he poured coffee.  “I am.”

Earl shook his head in wonder.  “Well, color me surprised.  Amy, I never put two and two together.”

“And this young lady?”  I looked at the woman who was still silently fuming.

“This is Margaret, the sweetest niece a man could have.” 

I sipped the coffee and tried to wrap my head around everything.  “And both of you think…  Earl, when did life get so complicated?”

“About the time they developed color TV and transistors.”  He took a cup from Illya.  “Thank you, son.”

“Sir.”

“Now I am going to say something.”  Earl set down his cup.  “And I would appreciate not being interrupted…” He looked straight at his niece.  “… Until I’m finished.”  There was not a peep.  “Amy and I are merely friends.  At our time of life, we get lonely.  You young people, you forget, but we have the same wants and desires that you have… just perhaps not as frequently.   But we get lonely, so very lonely.  Our friends are passing and more and more of our life is relegated to memories.”  He held out a hand to me and I took it happily.  “What Amy and I have is our business.  It is not a matter for THRUSH or UNCLE.”  He looked at each of them in turn.  “We are not pawns in your game.  We are not security risks.  We are two old people hoping to find a little companionship and love.”

“She’s after your money!”  Margaret snapped.

“He’s after hers.” Napoleon countered.

“Quiet!  I’m not finished.”  Earl took a moment to sip his coffee.  “Amy, this is delicious.  What brand is it?”

“I get it from a little shop on the corner.  The man there is very knowledgeable… at least about coffee.”

Earl nodded and set the cup back down.  “At our age, money loses its attractiveness.  It cannot buy what we desire – a kind word, a knowing smile, or a bit of mutual happiness.  All we ask is to be left alone.”

There was an uncomfortable silence and I could tell Earl’s words were being weighed carefully. 

“Napoleon, I’m not some silly old goose.  You’ve trusted me all your life.”  Illya had taken up his usual spot at Napoleon’s side.  “I’ve never questioned your choices or decisions, my love.   I’m asking you to return to me the same generosity of spirit.”  I patted Earl’s hand.  “We are just friends enjoying the time we have left.  Is that such a crime?”

“I think we need to go, Napoleon.”  Illya’s comment was so soft I barely heard it, but Napoleon nodded.  I could tell he wasn’t happy, but he stood and walked to the door.

Standing, I caught up with him just as he pulled it open.  “Thank you, my sweet.”  I hugged him to show that I didn’t begrudge him his feelings. 

“I still don’t like it, but you are both adults.  Just be careful.”

“I will.”  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Earl having a similar moment with his niece.

Then they were gone and we were alone. 

“Well, that was awkward,” I murmured as I shut and locked the door behind them. 

“They mean well.”  He’d retrieved the flowers from the kitchen.  I’m sure Illya thought they were bugged, but all they were simply lovely long stemmed roses.

“Thank you for the flowers.”

“You are welcome.”  Earl looked around my place.  “This is nice.”

“Thank you.”

“I live three buildings down.”

“You are joking!”

“I’m not.”  He smiled at me and held out his hand.  “You wanna get naked and go to bed.”

“I thought you told the kids we were just friends.”

“That’s what they deserve for thinking they invented sex.”

I laughed and nodded.  “Sure. Why not?  I’m sure gravity has been a cruel mistress to us equally.”

                                                                                ****

Is what we have true love?  I’m not sure, although we certainly had a very nice time that day rediscovering the spark of it.  Will we be forever?  I doubt it.  Forever is a very long time.  I will happily settle for now.


End file.
